


Swerving

by Drazyrohk



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Kissing, Meddling Tailgate, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: Swerve was pretty sure he'd seen this episode of this sitcom before. He just never thought he'd be living it!





	1. Chapter 1

Movie nights were one of his favorite parts of life aboard the Lost Light, hands down. Swerve had a wealth of material to share and the mecha around him came together during these times more than any other. 

Swerve had formed many a friendship, had found things to actually discuss and share with people. Things they were legitimately interested in, even if it was sometimes just to lambast them. The long conversations about character’s motivations, or about how the soundtrack was better than the film itself, or how they felt the plot twists could have been better conceived made Swerve’s life far more fulfilling. 

Some friendships caught him more off guard than others, of course. Particularly where Cyclonus was concerned. At first, Swerve thought that the stoic warrior was just trying to add to his slowly growing collection of minibots, but there were signs that perhaps Cyclonus saw him as more than just a tiny token sidekick.

Subtle signs. Just little things that could perhaps be excused away as quirks. Things like how they would sit next to each other while they watched movies, and Cyclonus would drape his arm across the back of the couch and brush talons against Swerve’s hood. 

Or how he would turn his burning optics from the film to look down at Swerve and smile. 

And of course, how could anyone miss the sign that was about as subtle as a brick to the face? That time Cyclonus reached over and curled a talon under Swerve’s chin, tilting it up so he could brush their mouths together, that was a pretty big one. 

Swerve had dropped a fair few glasses the next day at work, rather distracted as he tried to puzzle through what it might mean. 

Cyclonus couldn’t possibly like him that way, could he? After all, Cyclonus had Tailgate! Tailgate was a much more interesting minibot than Swerve. Swerve was full of pop culture, Tailgate was full of wide optic’d innocence and stuff! Tailgate was the Disney Princess to Cyclonus’ grim Disney Prince! Swerve was the stocky background character who served as a foil for humor! Nothing more!

Why in the world would Cyclonus be endangering the perfect thing he had going with Tailgate for taking a shot at Swerve? It made absolutely no sense. 

And yet, here Swerve was, cleaning glass off the floor and trying valiantly to ignore the tingling in his lip plates. It wasn’t just a memory purge. It really happened. No denying it.

To make matters worse, Swerve had a feeling that Tailgate knew. His best friend in the whole world, Tailgate seemed to be increasingly frustrated with him. It likely had something to do with the fact that Swerve kept saying he was busy when Tailgate invited him over for games in the hab suite he shared with Cyclonus. Or maybe the way Swerve kept making excuses to cancel on any plans the gang made to get together. Or perhaps the fact that Tailgate had been sitting to Cyclonus’ right while Swerve was to Cyclonus’ left, being not so surreptitiously smooched. 

“I’m so sorry.” Swerve finally blurted one evening while he slid Tailgate’s usual sparkly blue beverage down the bar top, complete with curly straw and tiny umbrella. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

“Huh?” Tailgate looked from him to the drink, confusion welling up in his field. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“No, not the drink. The drink is fine. I’m talking about Cyclonus. It wasn’t my idea. I swear.” Swerve said with a shake of his helm. 

“Oh, that.” Tailgate said, then sighed. 

It was the sort of sigh that contained indeterminate emotion. Swerve was fairly well versed in deciphering sighs, but Tailgate’s were still tricky. 

“It wasn’t even that big a deal.” Tailgate said, and Swerve blinked at him in surprise. “He could have done a lot better. Maybe then you wouldn’t have, what’s the phrase… spurned his advances?” 

“What?” Swerve asked eloquently. 

“Well, you’ve been avoiding him this whole time, so he and I both thought you weren’t interested!” Tailgate said as if that were supposed to explain everything. 

“Um.” Swerve said, optics impossibly wide behind his visor. 

“We didn’t want to pressure you so we were giving you space, but sheesh.” Tailgate picked up his drink and opened his faceplate to stick the straw in his intake. “You could have at least commed him or something. He’s really upset, even if he’d never admit it.” 

“Okay.” Swerve nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I’m lost. Hopelessly.” 

“You’re lost?” Tailgate looked at him with a frown. 

“Yes. Rather lost yes.” Swerve nodded again. “You appear to be saying that you knew about Cyclonus putting the moves on me.”

“That is what I’m saying yes.” Tailgate said.

“Right. Okay. And you’re disappointed that I didn’t call him?” Swerve asked. 

“Sort of yes. It would have been kinder to let him down, not ghost him.” Tailgate said conversationally, taking a long drink from his cup.

“How did this even happen?” Swerve finally bleated. 

“Cyclonus has a bit of an oral fixation. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly have a mouth that’s made for the sort of kissing he enjoys.” Tailgate stated in amusement. “And you could use a few good kisses, Swerve. You deserve them.”

“S-so you told Cyclonus to kiss me?” Swerve was aggressively polishing the glass he had picked up off the bar to give his servos something to do. 

“I didn’t tell him to do it. I asked him if he wanted to. Well, I asked him if he wanted to find someone to kiss and then suggested that he could maybe kiss you because there aren’t many people on this ship he likes, but I know he likes you.” Tailgate said as he flicked the straw sticking out of his drink. 

“And he thought that was a good suggestion?” Swerve asked. There was no harm in checking, really.

“Yeah. Not that he’d say it out loud, but yeah.” Tailgate looked at him in a manner that suggested it should have been obvious. “I just said, he likes you.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a theory to be tested. So Swerve decided to accept the next invitation to movie night. He even made snacks. He sat cross legged in his favourite spot. 

Tailgate came in and waved at him, and behind him came Cyclonus. They made optic contact for a moment before Cyclonus looked away to turn his attention on Tailgate. The two exchanged words, then Cyclonus brushed his servo over Tailgate’s helm before moving to sit down next to Swerve. 

Okay. Nothing weird about that. They often sat together, Swerve liked to sit at the back and Cyclonus was taller than almost everyone else here, so sitting at the back was smart. 

Swerve avoided looking at him at first. He nibbled on his bottom lip, reset his vocalizer, then offered his bowl of energon treats to the stoic jet. Cyclonus looked down at him, arched a brow, then shook his helm. 

Okay. So no sweets. That was fine. Swerve smiled hesitantly and tucked the bowl back down in his lap. 

As the movie started, Cyclonus sat back and draped his arm across the back of the couch they shared. Swerve drew in a slow vent when he felt talons ever so subtly brush the back of his hood. Had that been intentional? Those talons were long, so it might have been an accident. 

He put some of his energon snacks in his mouth, and wow he’d made them a bit crunchy hadn’t he? The sound of him chewing seemed unnaturally loud. He swallowed and glanced self consciously up at Cyclonus. 

Swerve met brilliantly red optics and blinked. Cyclonus was looking down at him with an unreadable expression. 

“Sorry.” Swerve whispered then managed a sheepish smile. “You sure you don’t want a taste?” 

Cyclonus let out a soft snort that may or may not have been a laugh. “Is there something special about these?” He asked, voice a rumble that could be felt more than heard. 

“They’re homemade.” Swerve said. Someone in the row ahead of them turned around and hushed them. 

Cyclonus stared at them and they muttered an apology before they turned back around. Swerve looked away, hoping to hide his wince. He reset his vocaliser quietly and reached back into the bowl to grab more of the goodies. 

After he ate them, Swerve felt that talon curl under his chin again and shyly looked up. 

This wasn’t just a chaste brush of lip plates. This was much more. It wasn’t the first time Swerve had been kissed, but it was definitely the first time he’d been kissed quite like this. It was sort of the kiss equivalent of a race car, from 0 to 60 in the space of a single second, or at least that’s what it felt like.

Cyclonus pressed his mouth to Swerve’s and as soon as he was sure he wasn’t going to be pushed away, he wasted _no_ time making sure he could sample those energon treats in his own way. 

Swerve was sure glad he didn’t whimper aloud. Or maybe he did… he honestly wasn’t even sure. The only thing that was certain was the tapered glossa that seemed intent on stroking each and every bit of residue from the sweets he’d consumed from his mouth, thoroughly and meticulously. 

Vents stuttering, Swerve blindly groped for purchase upon the vast expanse of Cyclonus’ armour. Short digits sought out seams, dug in and clung on, and he dragged himself closer. He found the presence of mind to reciprocate, and the growl that issued forth from Cyclonus was so soft that he would have missed it if they weren’t currently attached. He felt it ripple through him and grew disconcertingly warm as a result. 

Of course it couldn’t last forever. They weren’t alone, they were in a room full of people and oh Primus, please let those people still be watching the movie. As Cyclonus disengaged, glossa stroking Swerve’s now swollen lower lip plate, he vented heatedly. 

Their optics met, their gazes held, and Cyclonus smiled. It wasn’t his usual half smile, the ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ type that was so stereotypical of him. It was a fond, amused sort of smile that Swerve had only seen him wear when he was a little drunk and enjoying Back to the Future.

And that smile was for him. For Swerve. Primus have mercy, the minibot felt like he was going to burst into flames. 

“I see you prefer things sweet.” Cyclonus said in a very soft voice. 

“Uh huh.” Swerve nodded. Then he spluttered a little, his servos releasing their death grip on Cyclonus’ chest plate. “And spicy. Sometimes… I like things spicy.” 

“Is that so?” Cyclonus asked and the little huff of laughter that escaped him was warm against Swerve’s lips. “I will have to remember that.” 

“Kay.” Swerve said. They were still staring into one another’s optics, still so close together. He opened his mouth to speak again-

Cyclonus leaned forward and nuzzled him, then sat back a little and turned his attention to the movie once more. His servo came to rest on Swerve’s shoulder and didn’t move for the duration of the film. 

Swerve didn’t watch any of the rest of it. His optics stayed glued to Cyclonus, who wore that smile the whole time.


End file.
